


many more to come

by gingersprite



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Cultural Differences, F/M, Fix-It, Lots of Innuendo, Post-Canon, Theon Greyjoy Lives, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, sansa is also very horny but in a dignified way, theon is very horny for his wife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26553280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingersprite/pseuds/gingersprite
Summary: “I have to admit, when you told me to put on a blindfold, this wasn't what I had in mind.”
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58
Collections: Theonsa Challenge





	many more to come

**Author's Note:**

> For September's Theonsa challenge, "Life of the Party", in honor of Alfie Allen's birthday. I was so excited to learn that I have the same birth-month as my favorite squid prince! Many thanks to Janie (benhargrieves) for giving it a read through and letting me complain at her!

“I have to admit, when you told me to put on a blindfold, this wasn't what I had in mind,” Theon teased, allowing Sansa to steer him about by the shoulders. When she’d shown up to their chambers and instructed him to wear it, he’d been certain this was her way of telling him she wanted to try something new in the bedchamber; but instead, she led him in the opposite direction and out into the courtyard.

Sansa gave him a light swat on the arm, her steps not faltering for even a moment. “ _Hush,_ you rogue,” she said, though there was a certain inflection to the way she said ‘rogue’ that let him know she wasn’t really cross. In fact, maybe after they got through with whatever this was, they could put the blindfold to better use elsewhere…

“I can tell you’re still thinking about me naked.”

“That’s not hard to guess, I’m nearly always thinking about you naked,” Theon said cheekily.

“Only nearly?”

“Depends on what you consider ‘naked’,” he explained. “Because I also think about you in just your smallclothes quite a bit. Especially those nice ones with the Myrish lace-”

 _“Theon!”_ she hissed. “We’re out in the yard!”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that? You see, I’ve got this blindfold on, though I still haven’t figured out why…”

“Just another minute now, darling,” Sansa promised. She kept them walking until the ground beneath their feet turned from packed earth to layers of straw. He could tell from the tell-tale huffs and stamps that they were now in the stables, though that familiar horsey smell was certainly proof enough. 

Bringing him to a stop, Sansa dropped her guiding hands from his shoulders and commanded he wait just a moment more; Theon was sorely tempted to peak at whatever it was she was doing, but there was an eagerness about her that stayed his hand. Whatever this fuss was about, clearly she was very excited, and he wouldn’t ruin that for the world.

“Alright, you can take it off now,” she declared. 

Pulling the blindfold off, Theon blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted, taking in the sight before him. The stall in front of him held a stallion which had most definitely not been there yesterday. It was sleek and black as night; Theon estimated the horse stood about fourteen hands, as befit a nimble and speedy courser. The stallion seemed remarkably at ease in its new surroundings, looking back at him sedately.

Next to him, Sansa was practically bouncing in anticipation. “Well, what do you think?” she asked.

“He’s beautiful,” Theon said honestly, though the words seemed hardly enough for such a creature. The horse nickered against his outstretched hand, the nose damp and velvety soft. 

“Princess Arianne gifted him, all the way from Dorne. He was meant as a gift for our wedding, but she was kind enough to send him earlier at my request,” Sansa explained. “I also made you something. Gendry helped me with the construction, but the design is my own.” 

She held out a halter and bridle made of black leather with polished silver studs. Upon closer examination, he saw that the brow and nose band had been elaborately embroidered with gold thread; even for someone as skilled at needlework as Sansa, this must’ve taken up all of her precious little free time.

“Sansa, it’s marvelous,” he said. “But, what’s the occasion?”

Giving a bemused look, she said, “why, your nameday, of course!”

Theon frowned, his hand stroking the horse’s muzzle. “My people don’t have namedays. I know which month I was born in, but not the exact date.”

Sansa’s face fell. “I, I don’t understand? Of course you do, I remember you and Robb celebrating it when we were children,” she insisted.

Everything clicked into place with that. “Ah, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Shortly after I came to Winterfell, there was a feast for Robb’s nameday. He didn’t understand when I told him I didn’t have a nameday, so I just picked a random day.”

“Oh… so, today isn’t really your nameday?” 

“No,” he admitted. Honestly, he really didn’t much care one way or the other: the whole concept had always struck him as a very greenlander thing to do. He knew how many years old he was and what star sign he’d been born under, so why did the exact date matter? But Sansa still looked utterly crestfallen, so he scrambled to lessen the blow. “Well, maybe it could be; nobody knows for certain.”

“I feel rather foolish now.”

“Sansa, don’t,” he said gently, taking both her hands in his. “This was incredibly thoughtful of you. You put all this effort into doing this for me, and I love that. Even if, frankly, I’m not sure I’m worth all the fuss.”

“Of course you are!” Sansa exclaimed. “Theon, you are prince of the Iron Islands, soon to be husband to the Queen in the North. You need a proper horse like this one.” 

She made a point, and he knew it; he hadn’t had a horse of his own in years, not since Smiler. Sure, he’d made do with other mounts since then, but none that could match the quality of a thoroughbred Dornish charger.

“He’s a magnificent beast,” Theon said at last. Some of Sansa’s earlier excitement returned then.

“All he needs now is a name.”

Theon pondered barely a moment before choosing the first thing that came to mind. “I’ll call him Arrow,” he declared. Sansa’s nose scrunched up in distaste at the choice.

“Oh Theon, really?” Alright, so he’d never claimed to be good at naming things. 

“What? You _said_ he needed a name!”

“Well, yes, but _really?_ Nothing else comes to mind?”

“I suppose…” Theon cast his eye around the stables, hoping inspiration would strike. The stallion stretched his neck over into the next stall, where Sansa’s mare- a dapple-grey palfrey called Cloud- was housed. The horses snuffled at each other curiously; Cloud gave a snort of approval, and the two beasts seemed at peace with each other. Looking at them, Theon thought they looked like they belonged together, and the perfect name occurred to him. Smirking, he declared, “Storm. His name is Storm.”

“That’s a good name, quite regal,” Sansa said, nodded approvingly.

“Glad you agree,” he teased. “They go together quite well, don’t they? My Storm, and your Cloud.”

“Yes, it- oh, Theon!” she pouted, putting it together. “You think you’re quite clever, don’t you?”

“It’s been said. Ah ah, no take-backs! It’s his name now!” he said triumphantly.

“You’re incorrigible,” Sansa hummed lightly, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in close. “Maybe it’s not your real nameday, but I still feel like celebrating. What did you and Robb do on these not-namedays of yours?”

Theon shrugged. “Go hunting or fishing, or camp out in the wolfswood; anything to prove what skilled ‘men’ we were. Even after he knew better, he’d still insist we celebrate like it really was my nameday.” For all that Theon had resisted assimilating into northern culture, he couldn’t find it in himself to begrudge Robb’s kindness. Growing up like he had, in that nebulous space between hostage and ward, it helped him feel not just appreciated, but _wanted._ Even now after all he’d been through, he still held deeply fond memories of those times. “I think he just wanted to help me feel more included.”

“Well, I’ve never been one for hunting or fishing, and if you think Brienne will let me camp out all night in the woods then you’re sorely mistaken. But, perhaps we should take Storm out for a ride?” she suggested. Theon noticed then that she’d opted for one of her riding dresses, with the skirts ending at her ankles instead of the floor, and had her hair pulled back in a no-nonsense plait. Two stable hands who’d been waiting off to the side set about tacking the horses.

“Something tells me that was your plan all along. You just want to get me out of the castle, have me all to yourself!” he exclaimed, swooping in to kiss the freckles on her cheeks until she couldn’t help but giggle.

“Yes alright, you’ve figured out my plans!” she admitted. “My wicked, wicked plans to spoil you terribly!” They walked out into the courtyard hand-in-hand, their horses behind them. He helped her into her saddle, then mounted Storm for the first time. The stallion huffed and pawed the ground in excitement at the start of a ride.

“I supposed I’ll just have to go along with it then,” Theon said. 

“You’d better,” Sansa warned. “I plan to spoil you for many not-namedays to come.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at [gingersprites](gingersprites.tumblr.com), hit me up there for more of my bullshit!


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